Hopeful? What me?
by season5girl
Summary: It's Draco Malfoy's fifth year, and as is expected, it's different from any other he's had, in, or out of school. And why does Lupin seem to think there's more to the young Malfoy then meets the eye? R/R.
1. Default Chapter

A/N1: Hey all! Ok! I just started writing and this is what happened. This chapter is rated PG for mild cursing.  
Enjoy and if you'd be so kind as to review, I really would like to know what you think. You review, and I write, seems fair!  
  
  
  
Hopeful? What me?  
  
  
*Flashback*  
The silver of the moonlight which drifted down inbetween the branches of nearby trees only served to make his hair a lighter shade. It now shown a whitish-blonde under the deepening sky of night.  
  
No one knew he was out here. No one was supposed to know, it was just the way it had always been, the way it would always be.  
  
Because he wanted it that way.  
  
And he would like to see just who would disobey him in this house. True, he couldn't order his parents, well, not his father anyway. That wouldn't go over too well.  
  
But here, he wasn't anyone important. He didn't give orders out here, he didn't take them either.   
  
He just was.   
  
He would stare up at the dark sky, watching as the stars popped out, one by one, like holes punched in a light shade.  
  
No one was supposed to *be* there watching him.   
  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^*End*  
  
He leaned against the upper most turret in the upper most tower of his school. It was far past when he was supposed to be asleep in bed.  
  
He didn't take orders here though; he only did that when he was at home. This was not his home, though sometimes he felt more comfortable here then he did back at his parent's house.  
  
He'd been here for just over 5 years. It *didn't* seem that long, so late at night, it seemed *much* longer. So much had happened to him in those few years, and he wondered how he could have changed so much in such a short time.  
  
Did anyone notice the difference in him? Or was he the only one who would recognize it?  
  
When he'd gotten to King's Cross that year, and stood looking at the glistening shape of the train, he'd felt something...switch inside the pit of his stomach. Something was just slightly different now then it had been the previous years.  
  
His parents weren't there, they couldn't be bothered to spare the time to come and see him off. But his two...friends were there. They lumbered up to him, idiotic grins plastered onto their thick faces.  
  
"Hullo, Draco!" Goyle bellowed, his voice deeper then the year before, he waved as he trotted up to the all around smaller boy.  
  
Draco wasn't ogerish as were Crabbe and Goyle. He was elvin, slender though fairly muscled through out. His cheekbones set high in his pale face, and he was, truth be told, handsome. Certainly more so then last year, though not in the classically handsome way; he was just off. There was something slightly discomforting about the way he looked, whether it was simply the grey-coldness locked away in his eyes, locked just behind something...a wall.  
  
Or whether it was simple how he carried himself, for still a young boy, he looked as though he owned the world. He had certainly grown into himself.  
  
Draco turned, pulling his muted-almost openly emotionless-gaze away from the steaming scarlet train, to glance at the two large boys now standing by his side.  
  
"Hullo." He said immediately putting on a smirk, the look in his grey eyes changing from the walled emotion, to simple cruelty.  
  
"You look weird." Crabbe said, something like thoughtful concern crossing his face. Well, something like it anyway.  
  
"And you look as daft as ever, Vincent." Draco spat, his anger raging for a brief moment, and unknown reason. He calmed it down, glancing Crabbe over with distaste before turning back to face the Hogwarts Express.  
  
He straightened his dark robes though they didn't need it.  
  
A melodic laughter rose from far to his left and he turned to see the perfect sight. Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley, reuniting after the long summer break.  
  
He considered for a long moment going over to harass them, welcome them back to another hellish year, tease them about what dear old Harry would get himself into this time round the garden. But again, for some unknown reason...he decided against it.  
  
The train seemed so fascinating just now, and he stared at it, studying its line and shape, everything about it, as though he may never see it this closely again.  
  
As though it might enlighten him.  
  
"Are you o-" Goyle began before Draco cut him off sharply.  
  
"I'm fine. What say we go find ourselves a compartment? I've already gotten my trunk inside." Draco said, and without looking at either of his cronies for confirmation he began to move away, toward the small steps that led inside the train.  
  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^  
  
It took them little time to find an empty compartment near the front of the train, Draco settled himself by the window and stared absently out of it while Crabbe and Goyle spoke amongst themselves, comparing summers.   
  
"-co? Draco?" The trailing end of Goyle's sentence brought Draco out of his reverie of watching the late coming students hurrying through the barrier just beneath the Platform 9/3 sign, and those getting on the train. His gaze lingered on a young boy; he looked like a first year, who was saying what appeared to be a tearful good bye to his family.  
  
He hugged his mother, weeping-any noise muted out by the shut window of their compartment. And then he turned to his father; Draco watched this interaction with particular interest.  
  
The boy's father stood straight, shoulders back, some unreadable expression locked onto his face, his brows, his stature. Everything save for his eyes, which, even from his distance, Draco could see glinting with what must have been a tear. Of happiness? Of sadness? He couldn't say. He never had been able to tell the difference.  
  
The man bent down and brought his son into a long embrace, before letting him go again, and straightening up to his full, and somewhat worrying height.  
  
The boy left, and Draco dragged his eyes away from the parents, now holding each other's hand in the absence of their child's.   
  
"Draco?"  
  
He turned and faced Crabbe and Goyle. Though not the smartest students, they seemed to be able to tell that something was on his mind and Draco quickly, and expertly gave them a plausible explanation. He scoffed, "Just watching some first year, cry baby saying 'bye to Mummy and Daddy.... What were you asking?"  
  
"How was your summer?"  
  
"Fine, it was fine. We went to France, to 'visit the old Malfoy family landmarks'." Draco said in an exquisite imitation of his father, "We have a lot of them there, you know. Being descended from Frenchman and-" There was a knock at the compartment door, interrupting Draco's rant mid-way through. "Oh bugger, don't tell me we're going to have to share with some first year-"  
  
"Mind if I join you?" A calm voice asked as the door opened slowly. It was not some first year, or indeed a student at all.  
  
Draco recognized him as one of their previous teachers. "I thought they got rid of your type two years ago?" Draco drawled.  
  
"They did. But I didn't take to it, it seems. I've come back now." Remus J. Lupin stood in the doorway, and stepped inside, closing it quietly behind him. He had the same battered suitcase as two years ago tucked under one arm, though a new one joined it now beneath his other. He wore the same, or very similar, worn out and patched robes. And looked only slightly older then he had two years ago.  
  
"Wait until my father hears about this. You'll be out on your own again so fast it'll make your head spin."  
  
"I wouldn't count that out-but I wouldn't hold my breath for it either." Lupin answered softly, as he lifted his cases above him, tucking them into the overhead loft. He took a seat beside Crabbe and Goyle, who stared open mouthed at their ex-teacher.  
  
"Slide down a bit? Ahh, thank you." Lupin flashed them a quick smile as he sat down with a weary sigh.  
  
Draco stared at him with crossed arms and narrowed eyes. "Why must *you* sit in *our* compartment?"  
  
Lupin looked up at this, as he settled himself down into the wall-bench. "Surely you're not afraid of sharing your cabin with a werewolf? I promise, I won't bite." He seemed to Draco to be enjoying this a bit much.  
  
Draco crossed his arms sourly, turning abruptly away, once again finding himself staring outside the window, though now the platform was empty, and with dawning realization that they'd be moving any minute, he was proved correct, as the train lurched into motion, bound for another year at Hogwarts.  
  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^  
Draco thought that the ride would have been exceedingly more enjoyable had he not been forced to sit mere feet away from a known werewolf. Full moon or no, daytime or not, it made him down right uncomfortable.  
  
He shifted in his seat, eyeing Lupin suspiciously, sidelong.  
  
Remus Lupin scrunched up his nose as he looked down through his reading glasses, turning the page of his book, he caught the look, which Draco had given him.  
  
He was alone with the boy just now, his two larger friends having just run off after the witch with the food cart.  
  
Remus hadn't bought anything; he said he wasn't hungry though to be more truthful, he didn't have the money to go buying the sorts of sweets she sold. He needed to spend what Knuts and sickles he had on more nourishing substances then Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, and Chocolate Frogs.  
  
"Why don't you like me? I've never been mean to you-I've never really even spoken to you." Lupin said, not looking up from his book (A Thousand Dawns: The Hidden Life of Quasies*).  
  
Draco scoffed and then fell silent; Lupin noted the momentary smirk slide off his face and wondered if it was because of something he'd said.  
  
In truth, Draco was wondering why exactly he didn't like this...Professor. Why aside from the fact that his father didn't. He was a werewolf, yes, but he posed no threat to Draco and never really had. Not directly in any case, when he'd transformed out on the grounds of Hogwarts, technically he had posed a threat to anyone unlucky enough to meet up with him; but that was not pointed at Draco.  
  
It was not done solely to get at the young Malfoy.  
  
"You...are a freak." Draco settled for this, not the most imaginative of insults, but surely one of the more truthful ones in his opinion.  
  
To his surprise Lupin smiled, and laughed very silently, as though he alone had been told a joke, and didn't want to seem too strange by laughing more loudly.  
  
"I suppose some would agree with that. And I've certainly been called far worse..." Lupin agreed solemnly. He reached down to the small piece of red ribbon, which hung from within the pages of his book, and laid it down to mark the current one on which he was.  
  
He slid his glasses off with a gentle motion and placed them somewhere in the recesses of his robe.  
  
Draco looked at him wearily, mouth slightly slack. "What are you doing?"  
  
"Well I thought you and I were talking, and I know I always find it rude when the person to whom I am speaking, is also reading." He said politely, testing the waters to see just how close to civil he could be with a Malfoy.  
  
"Well...what if I don't want to talk to you?" Draco drawled, a little too uninterested for it not to be a farce.  
  
"Then I suppose I pick my book up again and continue with the story. It's a horror book. Well something close to it, it...once belonged to a good friend of mine." Lupin said, a slightly glazed over look in his eyes as he ran his fingers across the gold lettering on the book.  
  
"Huh." Draco said, mildly curious in what the werewolf had to say, "Who gave it to you?"  
  
"That's not important. A friend from school, he's-I don't know him anymore." Lupin said, his voice taking on an unnatural note to it. He was, of course holding something back. He did in fact still know Sirius, he'd just gotten word from him that Dumbledore had requested Lupin's return to Hogwarts for reasons of the most unpleasant kind. Those of the Dark Lord.  
  
There had been a more personal note attached to the official request, which Sirius had sent. And that piece now sat, torn from the rest, which had been burned...just in case, inside the very book Lupin held safely on his lap.  
  
"Probably Potter's father." Draco mumbled, looking once again uninterested, he stared out the window.  
  
"No. It wasn't Harry's father." Lupin said abruptly, startling Draco.  
  
"Hit a sore spot, have I? Don't like to talk about him, do you? What was his name again..."  
  
"James Potter. He was a very good man, Draco, twice what most of us are."  
  
"Twice what you are?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Now that I can believe."  
  
"You speak about a lot that you don't really understand." Lupin said quietly.  
  
"Do you know who I am? I am *Draco Malfoy*. You shouldn't talk to me in such a...disrespectful way!" Draco spat.  
  
"I thank you for the lesson, but I give my respect to those who earn it. And forgive me for saying so, but the name of Malfoy demands fear, no longer respect."  
  
"Fear and respect are one in the same." Draco said casually. He was tiring of this conversation but saw no direct way to get out of it. He would just have to ride it out.  
  
"You think so? Do you respect me, Draco Malfoy?" Lupin asked, leaning forward.  
  
"No." Draco said with annoyed surprise at such a stupid question.  
  
"Do you fear me?"  
  
"...I give my fear to those who earn it."  
  
Crabbe and Goyle re-entered the cabin just then, and Lupin leaned back in his seat to let them pass. His conversation with the young Malfoy halted abruptly.  
  
He watched him though, out of the corner of his eyes, even as he opened his book once again. He watched him, and found more and more interest in it. There were so many levels to this boy, not just the coldness that lay on top. He wasn't just a Malfoy, it seemed as though to Lupin, that he played the part of one simply because he knew no other way in which to act.  
  
  
* Quassie: it's from an original short I'm writing. A sort of...evil creature that drags people into bogs. Don't ask.  
  
A/N2: Ok, this is the end of chapter one, the other chapters get A LOT better, this one I was still trying to get the feel for the story. I have already written about...4 more chapters, but I'm not sure if I should post them. Should I post them? I might anyhow...but please tell me what you think of this so far, and if you have any suggestions for what you'd like to have happen, just let me know. I have no real plot with this, not...entirely anyway, I'm just sorta allowing it to write its self. Don't forget to review...!!!!.  



	2. The Great Hall

A/N1: Hey again everyone! Thank you all so much for reviewing the last chapter, I'm having a LOT of fun with this story and it's great to know that other people are liking it too!. I re-read it today to see where I should end this chapter and I didn't want to stop. I want to know what happens next, too.;) This Chapter is rated G.  
  
Important: Ok, first off I would like to say to PikaCheeka (Thank you for reviewing, btw:)) that I have read a number of your stories and enjoyed them very much, but as far as I can recall, I have never, never read any story-by you or another author-in which Lupin and Draco even spoke, let alone formed any sort of relationship. Therefore, I am sorry if this story bares a resemblance to something you or other talented authors have done, but it is purely coincidental.  
2: Some people seem to be having trouble viewing this story (my guess would be in something with my html) so I am going to try re-posting them in .txt format, granted it takes my pretty fonts away, but I'd prefer people are able to read it. Thank you all again for reading and reviewing!!:)  
  
Again, if everyone could review that'd be great....suggestions are quite welcome! Enjoy!  
  
  
  
  
Hopeful? What me?  
Part Two: The Great Hall.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The train ride seemed to go much more quickly after that. Draco hardly noticed the rest of the time going by, until finally the train halted, and students stumbled off in droves, first years being separated and led off towards the lake, and there about to the sorting.  
  
It was at this point that Lupin and Draco parted ways, though Draco couldn't say this exactly displeased him. The man-the freak of a man-unnerved him for some reason he couldn't decipher.  
  
And one he didn't have much want to.  
  
"Come on, Draco! We'll miss the feast." Goyle said, rubbing his hands together. "Oh please," Draco drawled, walking up with Crabbe to where Goyle stood, "The feast hasn't even started yet, how could we possibly miss it? Honestly."  
  
Goyle looked slightly dumbfounded. "But- I...the feas-" "Oh, don't blubber!" Draco spat, "We're on our way to the feast aren't we?" Goyle and Crabbe both nodded, mouths hanging slightly slack jawed. "Right, then we have nothing to worry over."  
  
With a shake of his head Draco began to make his way through the coming darkness of evening, towards the giant stone figure of Hogwarts School.  
  
It loomed. That was the very best way to describe it, with an air of kindness, and majesty, the huge castle was something from a dream. Something that even when you stood in front of it, or walked inside, didn't seem quite real. As if even as you lived there, you were asleep someplace else and would wake any moment from the reverie it held over you.  
It was Hogwarts, and in a large way it demanded respect.  
  
Draco and the other students filed inside its huge oak doors, and the castle almost sang. With the sound of all the students before them that had come inside as second years, or seventh. It was a buzz with the noises of current students, of the present day, and memories of laughter and excitement. It had always been this way; it was as though the castle itself were almost alive. The way the doors would move on different days, and the stairs always played tricks on you. The castle seemed to have a mind of it's own, and if you were quiet, at night in your dorm...sometimes it seems as if the castle is breathing with you, in restful slumber.  
  
However now, in the early evening hours of September first, the castle and all inhabitants were anything but asleep, or quiet. It was alive-awake with the sounds of thousands of footfalls on hard stone floors.  
  
"They always seem to make this place smile again." Draco heard the voice of a teacher-though he couldn't quite place which one.  
  
He turned to try and see but the crowd of students piled in behind him too quickly, blocking his view of anything save for pointed black hats and red faces, blushed from the chill of the outdoors.  
  
He turned again to try and push his way into the Great Hall. Crabbe and Goyle had somewhere along the line been lost to the masses, but Draco didn't doubt they'd soon turn up where the food was. Which was exactly where Draco headed now.  
  
The Great Hall was a long room, with five tables almost equally as long. One for each of the houses and then one for the staff.  
  
Draco Malfoy looked at all the tables briefly, all of them still being quite empty. Ravenclaw was fullest, followed only by Gryffindor. Slytherin was next and the Hufflepuff table was still being filled.  
  
The table at which the professor's sat was nearly full, only the faces of Professor McGonagall and Filch missing, and only because of McGonagall's duty involved with the sorting.  
  
Draco found it quite likely that Filch was off giving as much detention as soon as possible to students, for things such as running in the halls or speaking too loudly.  
  
Draco looked down at his shoes, silently wondering just how much mud he'd tracked in. Multiply that by the number of students marching up and down the halls, and he began to see why Filch was so overzealous with his work.  
  
Draco sat down by the end of the Slytherin table, nearest to the staff table. He scanned the scene again; it all looked the same as it had last year, perhaps a bit more homelike, less exotic to him but only because he'd seen it every morning, noon and night for the past five years.  
  
Still, it had something about it that made it so unique. So different every time. It was the essence of something he couldn't place. If Hogwarts was alive, then the Great Hall was at the least, very near to its heart.  
  
Something Draco wasn't familiar with. He had been raised to use his head rather then heart. Logic seemed just so much more...well, logical to him then emotions. It had always been like this. The longer he thought about it, the tougher it became to think of a time when he was anything but what he was now. And though he couldn't put a name to it, he knew it was different then what most boys his age were. He didn't play well with others.  
  
So much of his time had been spent with his father growing up, that sometimes early on he'd found it hard to communicate properly with children his own age. It had worried his mother, Narcissa Malfoy, to no point. And finally his father had decided to do something about it.  
  
It had been called Alginines Educational Reformatory, and had in essence been a Purebloods answer to daycare.  
  
Draco had been sent there merely to learn how to socialize better with people his own age. For he was perfectly fine around adults, such as his father's friends. But when it came to people Draco didn't know his place with, he came across as too bossy for most of them, and they left him alone. Which is-to the grave disappointment of his family members-what happened at Alginines.   
  
Draco went there for two weeks before the Alginine himself suggested that perhaps the boy would prefer some socializing at home.  
  
Draco had spent his time at the school in a corner alone, reading or doing nothing at all save for watching the others play. Which, needless to say, disturbed them.  
  
He had been less then 6 when he attended.  
  
  
Draco vaguely heard the scattered applause as the first years were led out onto the small rise of floor in front of the house tables. He'd apparently not been paying attention as the stool and Sorting Hat had already been brought out.  
  
  
Draco's socializing problem had been fixed when he turned nine. It had been fixed by his father, ironically the one who had caused much of it in the first place.  
  
An endless number of speeches had been tried by Lucius Malfoy with no result. And finally, at a party one new years, when a young child of one of Lucius' friends had tried to speak with Draco, it resulted in a bloody lip for the boy and the final straw for Lucius.  
  
He had apologized dearly to the boy's father, who said that it wasn't anything to worry over, and that his son had probably done something to begin it in the first place.  
  
Never the less, later on that evening as the incident became forgotten, Lucius nonchalantly hustled Draco into another room and told him in no uncertain terms, that if he did not start behaving like any normal child, and stop insisting to be with adults only, then he would lock Draco in his room, and slide what little food he could under the door. And that way, they'd both be happy for "You will get to be by yourself for as long as you please, and I will not have a disgrace for a son."  
  
Draco hadn't enjoyed the thought of being locked inside his room entirely by himself with no food. And so, thusly he had began to suddenly enjoy the company of almost every person he met. Both old and young.  
  
He was still a bit bossy, and now rather cold. But he had done as his father told him. And he had adapted without much outer fuss. He also found very nicely, just how useful a smirk could be to hide one's true expressions.  
  
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\  
".... -Davids, Andrea." Andrea Davids stepped forward and sat on the stool, placing the Sorting Hat onto her head. It fell low and she fidgeted as it began to talk so only she could hear it.  
  
Draco watched this all without much interest. Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught the sight of something that he found much more interesting. Someone was entering the Great Hall, only just now, sneaking the door open softly and removing his hat, padding quietly over to the staff table, attracting several more looks from professors.  
  
It was that werewolf again; he was speaking with Professor Dumbledore. Dumbledore nodded once and then motioned for Professor Snape to move down a seat and give the man he'd been speaking to room to sit down.  
  
Remus Lupin looked grateful as he wrung his hat out between pale hands. He took the seat offered by Dumbledore. The seat which had belonged to Snape, who looked more then a bit displeased with having to give it up.  
  
"There are plenty more, Severus." Draco thought he had caught Dumbledore's voice say, and he definitely had made out the low rumble of Snape's reply.  
  
Lupin sat down looking paler then ever at the thought of sitting directly next to Snape, and he hid his hands beneath the table, though Draco could still see him ringing them out on his fraying hat.  
  
Draco scoffed quietly, then raising his voice to speak: "You'd think with all the money they gave him here back in third year he'd have been able to buy himself some decent clothing. I mean, I know he's only a dog but doesn't he care what he looks like? Even dogs clean themselves." Draco said a bit more loudly then was really needed for the other Slytherin's to hear.  
  
Draco looked around smugly to the staff table as the Slytherin's snickered behind their hands. He caught Potter glaring at him along with his cronies Weasley and the Mudblood Granger.  
  
Draco only smirked more widely as he saw the indignant looks on their faces, but as he returned his gaze to the staff table the smirk faded. Lupin didn't seem to have heard what he'd said, or didn't care.  
  
He was buttering bread, looking down at it as if studying the lines his knife made in the soft, cream coloured spread.  
  
Draco nearly jumped out from his seat as Lupin abruptly looked up, not a scowl on his face, but something looked so much more like sorrow. Not at what Draco had said-but at Draco. He looked disappointed at the fact that Draco saw him this way. It troubled Draco, and he found he had to turn and face towards his own table again, to steady his rapidly beating heart. Was he...nervous?  
  
  
  
A/N2: How was it? Hope it was ok, I'm off to try and write some more of it now. Wish me luck *points to the review box and grins*   
  



	3. Tomorrow

A/N1: Sorry this took so long to post! Icky writers block.  
Please review?  
  
Hopeful? What me?  
Part Three: Tomorrow  
  
  
  
  
  
Remus Lupin had tried to slip quietly into the Great Hall, though it appeared at least a few pupils had seen his entrance. Most notably being Harry, Ron and Hermione who all waved. Ron with a forkful of food and a mouth bulging, Harry with a look of pleasured surprise to see his favorite Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and one of his father's best friends again, and Hermione with a look of frantic nerves as she ducked quickly down to rummage through her book bag.  
  
But still-in Remus' book-notable was how Mr. Malfoy had greeted his entrance. Harsh words and labored breathing didn't seem the normal greeting of choice for most.  
  
And yet this is just what Draco had done.  
  
Even from across the hall at the staff table, Remus had heard Draco's comment. He chose to ignore it, and looked up only when he thought a sufficient amount of time had passed for Draco to once again be concentrating on his feast and conversations with others.  
  
Remus had been surprised to find the boy still looking at him, and even more disturbing was how Draco reacted to his stare. His chest noticeably increasing in speed and volume as he breathed deeply.  
  
Remus thought it seemed as though he had truly scared Draco, and was pleased when the boy turned around again.  
  
It was not only Remus and Draco who had been witness to this however. Someone else had been watching closely ever since Remus entered the room, and took his seat. Snape's eyes were narrow slits, dark as they watched the interaction carefully.   
  
Never had he seen Draco react to someone in this manner. It was uncharacteristic for any Malfoy, but especially Draco, who had always been one to stand up to his peers, rather then cower from them.  
  
Severus Snape placed his fork down with a silent tank sound onto his plate. And for the rest of the evening his eyes continued to switch between Remus Lupin and Draco.  
  
Something wasn't right here. And though he could go the round about way in finding out what he decided the direct...the blunt approach might work best here.  
  
Snape didn't trust Lupin. He hadn't since long back, and his distrust of him was not wholly unfounded. The man had put Snape's live in danger on several occasions although he had always claimed ignorance to it until after the fact.  
  
Snape had never believed him; he had never been given reason to. And to this day, he did not like the sight of the man. He looked too calm, too...something wasn't right about him. And now the way in which Draco reacted to him, made Snape's suspicion grow. Something was not right here.  
  
"You've met Draco before?" Snape's voice was low, yet remarkably calm.  
  
It took Remus a moment to realize that Snape was speaking to him-of all people.  
  
"Wha-? Oh...Draco Malfoy? No, I taught him back in Harry's third year, but I never met him exactly before today."  
  
Snape nodded slowly, looking still not entirely convinced by this.  
  
"Why do you ask, Severus? Something the matter?" Remus said, watching Snape's eyes flick quickly from Draco back to himself. It was worrying to see Snape like this; the look on his face was one which Remus knew well. It was that 'I know you're up to something, just give me time and I'll know what' look.  
  
"No. Nothing." He answered, his lip twitching slightly, he leaned back, shoving away from the table. "If you will excuse me." He said, no one but Remus and Dumbledore hearing him.  
  
"Oh! Retiring so early, Severus? The sorting is not over yet! And we haven't sung the School song, either." Dumbledore said, a noticeable twinkling in his pale eyes.  
  
"I'm tired, I do beg your forgiveness...I need some time to think however, and this doesn't seem the best place for it." Snape said, the last bit of his sentence coming out through slightly bared and gritted teeth.  
  
Dumbledore nodded understandingly, "Yes, yes I agree. It is a bit-" one of the house tables exploded in applause as a new student was added to their mix "-loud." Snape finished for him and Dumbledore smiled, "Perhaps you would come and see me tomorrow afternoon, Remus, myself and some of the other Professors are having a meeting. There might be someone there you'd like to speak with, as well."  
  
The twinkle in his eye nearly made Remus choke, "You don't mean-" "I do."   
  
Snape admitted something, which closely resembled a growl.  
  
"And Severus, I'm glad you're still here, I wanted to remind you of the meeting as well. It is very important seeing as it's our first one in recent years and your presence is requested. Despite the fact that someone you perhaps do not want to speak with might be there."  
  
"Sir-" Snape began.  
  
"No excuses, Severus. This is important to all of our kind and the rest of the world. Put past quarrels behind you, for a few hours, Severus, please."  
  
"But is he really needed there?!"  
  
"Sirius is as crucial to any of this as you are, Severus. And Dumbledore makes you out to be very important. As do I. Please attend. Both of you are necessary." Remus' quiet voice spoke up, low and serious.  
  
"I-very well. Now I bid you all goodnight!" Snape said coarsely, and turned on his heel, cloak billowing out from behind him as he left the Great Hall and the sorting behind.  
  
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\  
Draco watched from the Slytherin table. Something seemed to be disturbing Professor Snape. He intended to find out just what.  
  
"GRYFFINDOR!" The Sorting Hat's voice called out.  
  
"'Bout time." Someone mumbled. "Took 7 minutes to place that one." Someone else chimed in.  
  
"They've all taken long tonight."  
  
"It's a tough group, seems."  
  
"Notice we haven't gotten any yet?"  
  
"SLYTHERIN! Oh MY, YES." The hat called out, sending a young boy over to the table which erupted into hoots and claps.  
  
"Well there goes that theory!" Someone laughed.  
  
Draco remained silent. He didn't much feel like socializing tonight.   
  
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\  
The hall quieted as the evening wore on, and Draco continued to sneak peers at the staff table, finally stopping when Lupin, as Snape had done hours before, left.   
  
"And now," Dumbledore said, standing up, "The school song. Everyone please pick your favorite tune!" He pulled his wand out, a small ribbon hanging from the end of it and began to write the words in the air with the tip of his wand. They danced as they hung momentarily there. "And away we go..." He said as with one voice and a thousand songs, the whole of the School of Hogwarts broke into song.  
  
Draco began midway through the first line, in a quiet tune he made up as he went along, and a small voice, only slightly below the others.  
  
"Very lovely! Yes, very lovely indeed. Every year we get better and better!" Dumbledore said, clapping loudly as the song ended, "And now...to bed!" He pointed towards the door with a stern look, which melted slowly into his same gentle smile, "for tomorrow begins a new year of magic."   
  
And with that, the feast had ended.  
  
The students began filing out, towards common rooms and beds which memory led the way to.  
  
Draco heard the Prefects directing first years to follow behind them and they'd be shown the way to their houses.  
  
Draco himself didn't know the new password to Slytherin's dungeon, but he assumed if he followed a large enough group, someone was surely going to know it.   
  
And anyhow, his mind was on other things at the moment...such as how he was going to figure out what Snape and Lupin were up to.   
  
Snape had looked very displeased when he'd left the Hall earlier that evening, and just after both he and Lupin had spoken with Dumbledore, Lupin looked very distant, not looking at Draco but once more all night.  
  
Something had surely been said to distract them. Draco was wondering if it had anything to do with him.   
  
"Draco!" Draco turned to see Crabbe and Goyle trotting up to him. He noticed Potter and his cronies behind them, smiling and laughing as they headed to sleep. He watched them briefly and then turned to face his 'friends'.  
  
"What is it? I'm tired."  
  
"Do you know the password?" Goyle asked.  
  
"No, I was hoping someone else I ran into would." Draco answered truthfully, crossing his arms and shifting his weight.  
  
He was tired, he felt it in every corner of his being, he needed to rest, he needed to rest his body at least. His mind was still sharp, and going a mile a minute with thoughts and plans for tomorrow and the day after, for most of the rest of the school year and even after he got back home for summer vacation.  
  
Draco had always enjoyed planning things out. Knowing what he was expected to do, and what he should do.  
  
And now was no exception.   
  
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\  
Bed seemed a hundred miles away as Draco moved forward, sliding his feet across the floor and listening to the sound, which it made.  
  
But his mind was on tomorrow. On the lessons he would have, the classes, the standoffs with other students and perhaps even teachers. It was his life at Hogwarts, and he wondered sometimes if his father knew anything of it at all.  
  
Just last year he had found he needed a bit more quiet then normal. And the sort of quiet which he needed, the Slytherin common room did not provide.   
  
It was a dark night the time in his fourth year that he decided to go search for someplace that offered the solitude he'd always been fond of. He found it in the highest tower Hogwarts had to offer, it hadn't been in use at the time, he wondered now if it still wasn't, and made his mind up to go and check on it tomorrow night.   
  
It would be...an adventure.  
  
Draco smiled to himself, he had Potions tomorrow with the Gryffindors which always provided a good outlit for his pent up annoyance, he would get the isolation tomorrow night to sort himself out, and he had that werewolf Professor to use as a weapon against Potter and his clan. All in all, this year was shaping up to be quite a good one. And Draco looked forward to meeting it with open arms.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N2: Ok, so I don't know how much *I* like this chapter, but please tell me what you think! Hopefully the next chapter will be up sooner then this! Thanks for the patience! 


	4. Passwords, etc...

A/N: Ok, here's the next chapter. I am sorry it's taken me so long to get it up, but ff.net has been down for me and I wasn't able to access it at all. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, sorry it's so short, I'm hoping the next one (still in the works) will be a longer one;) Anyway, please review, I could use some of those.  
I write, you review...seems like a fair exchange.  
  
Hopeful? What me?  
Chapter 4: Passwords, Plots, and Plans  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"NOBODY learned the password?" The young Slytherin second year said for the fourth time in as many minutes.  
  
"Oh come OFF it! Someone's already gone to fetch a Prefect, there's not much more we can do but wait!"   
  
"I HATE waiting."  
  
Draco sighed. Sometimes his house infuriated him. They seemed to have this incessant need to spew out words and speeches that didn't make sense, or didn't need to be said. They spoke for the sake of hearing their own voices and loved themselves all the more for doing it so frequently.  
  
"Coming through! Coming through!" A stern voice said. Draco looked up to see none other then Professor Snape plowing his way through the crowd of sleepy Slytherin's who had planted themselves directly in front of the entrance to their room.  
  
Snape gave a scolding, cold, look around him, his eyes lightening and lingering on Draco. Then, to Draco's surprise, his lips twisted up into a smile. "MR. Malfoy, perhaps you'd be so kind as to tell me exactly what is going on here?"  
  
"Yes, of course, Professor." Draco drawled lazily, this was what he was used to, being treated kindly by Snape, getting better treatment had been something he'd grown very accustomed to throughout his life, "Well, sir, it seems none of us remembered to ask what the password was this year! So none of us can get in. Of course, I would have done it myself, sir, if I hadn't been so distracted by Potter's harassment of me this year, again." Draco lied.  
  
  
"I thought he stayed at his table all evening.... I didn't see him harrass you at a-" Draco shot the other Slytherin a dangerous look.  
  
"It was harassment from a distance then! What do you know?! You had your face inside your soup bowl half the time, slurrping merrily away! No wonder you didn't see!" Draco spat to scattered snickering. The other Slytherin boy fell silent.   
  
"You believe me, don't you Professor Snape?" Draco said, his voice changing notably from one of dangerous rage to that of a small child.  
  
"Of course I do, Mr. Malfoy." Snape said, and in the way he spoke it was quite clear to all that the matter was now closed.  
  
"I would insist that next year you all do try and pay more attention! The other houses would have a field day if they found out about this!" Snape snapped. He gave another meaningful look to the students of his house.  
  
Though he was not the most well liked Professor in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, those of Slytherin house were for the most part, unwaveringly loyal to him. And in return he was very good to them in his classes, they were allowed to make small mistakes whereas those from houses such as Gryffindor would be severally punished for much smaller ones.  
  
However unfair it may have seemed to some, it was the way Snape ran things. You could either adjust to it, or suffer even worse.  
  
"Quassia." Snape said simply and left before anyone had the chance to question him..  
  
It all remained silent for a few moments before someone spoke up. "Well someone try it! It must be this year's password!"  
  
"What does it mean though. It sounds dumb." Pansy Parkinson, a fellow 5th year, girl said as though spitting something nasty out.  
  
"It means a bitter substance extracted from-" Crabbe began.  
  
"Oh who CARES? Lets just try it so we can all go to bed, already!" Pansy barked.  
  
No one moved for a long moment, each waiting for someone else to try it. Finally Draco took it upon himself to put this whole messy business behind them.  
  
He stood up and went over to the entrance, clearing his throat, he tried: "Quassia!" The entrance slid open, and with a smug smile, he was the first that year to step inside the common rooms.  
  
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\  
"Well, if I had been sorted into that dreadful house I would try to sit next to him too!" Pansy Parkinson was saying, the next morning at breakfast. "I mean, Potter is obviously the most powerful one in the whole lot.... I'd want to get as close to his power as I could, if I were them. Thank goodness I'm not though. Can you imagine? Me? A Gryffindor! Yech!"  
  
"Heaven forbid you not get to sit at our table every morning, day in day out.." Draco mumbled as he prodded his food.  
  
  
"What was that, Draco?" "He didn't say anything, Pansy." Orlando Crier said quickly, as he saw the obvious look on Draco's face. The look Draco got every time he was just about to say something particularly bad.  
  
"No...nothing." Draco played along with Orlando's save, having one of his patented second thoughts of much better judgement.  
  
Pansy wasn't a good one to insult. She wouldn't do anything about it, but she whined constantly for the next week, wondering why she wasn't more popular, or why Draco was so mean when he obviously liked her. Which, he obviously, didn't.  
  
It had only been a half-planned insult in any case, Draco's attention continued to be distracted to the staff table where he noted Lupin's presence and Snape's apparent absence.  
  
He knew that the two weren't exactly fond of each other, but he failed to see why Dumbledore would pick feeding a werewolf over one of theown schools Professor's.  
  
It didn't seem to occur to Draco, that perhaps, it had been Professor Snape's idea not to come to breakfast this particular morning.  
  
And what a morning. The sun was streaming in through the windows, which lined one part of the walls, and the ceiling was a clear blue without any clouds. It mimicked perfectly what was outside in the late spring sky.  
  
The owls hadn't arrived yet, but Draco didn't really notice. His family hadn't been sending sweets and goodies to him recently, as they had always done in years before. Every morning, in fact, he would get a new package, and open it straight away at the Slytherin table, exclaiming things such as: "Not these again, if I've told them once it's been a thousand times that I don't like anything that's not imported!" or "This looks oddly like Muggle chocolate, I bet you anything the house elves bought it just to displease me!"   
  
But today, even if he was to receive anything in the mail, he didn't much feel like opening it here or gloating over it.  
  
It's not that he still didn't like to show everyone else how rich or powerful or how much better his family was-but something about the bright Monday morning was troubling him.   
  
It was so perfect, it was so normal, except for one thing that he couldn't get out of his mind, and couldn't stop glancing at.  
  
The staff table.  
  
It was not only Professor Snape's absence that bothered Draco, but also the way in which all the teachers seemed to be a little more tense then normal...and a little more compact. They sat closer then usually and spoke in softer voices. Occasionally now, they started glancing over to the Slytherin table as they spoke, and once, Draco thought he saw Dumbledore look directly at him.  
  
What were they up to?  
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\  
  
"Albus, don't you think we should save this for the meeting?" Professor McGonagall said, drawing Dumbledore's attention away from the Slytherin's and back to the matter at hand.  
  
"Yes, yes. Quite right, Minerva." He looked up locking eyes momentarily with each Professor at the table, "It is of the utmost importance to all concerned that no one finds reason to not attend today's staff meeting. We need all of you there if we are to stop what is coming."  
  
The faces of each Professor grew starker, and their forms each deflated slightly. This was not a meeting, which any of them were looking forward to.  
  
Save, perhaps in some aspect, for Remus, who had been meaning all morning to ask Dumbledore if what he'd said last night-about Sirius attending-was really true. But the chance had not, as of yet, arisen.  
  
The table quieted as Professor's returned to hardly touched breakfasts, and Remus, who was sitting directly next to Dumbledore on one side, thought perhaps now would be a good time to bring up the matter of Sirius.  
  
He opened his mouth, and was interrupted by the blasting open of the windows directly over head, as hundreds of owls came swooping inside, dropping letters and packages into bowls of porridge and cups of juice.  
  
Lupin sighed, shutting his mouth again and pushing slightly back from the table, to watch the owls as they delivered their goods.  
  
The subject of his long lost friend, would have to once again, be put off for the time.  
  
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\  
Draco chewed the rather toffee like porridge, it seemed to have something a bit wrong with it today. And he turned his head as he heard the windows burst open, and the nearly soundless flutter of a thousand wings.  
  
He watched them soar overhead, dropping letters at every table...and directly onto Draco's head.  
  
"What the-" Draco pulled the letter down off his blonde and now slightly flattened hair and looked it carefully over;  
  
Draco Malfoy   
Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft  
And Wizardry  
  
There was, as Draco expected, no return address. He flipped the letter over however and found what he'd been looking for. The Malfoy seal, imprinted upon a wax circle of darkest green.  
  
Draco's heart fluttered nervously. He hadn't heard anything from his family since before he left for King's Cross, they hadn't sent any packages as normal, and now, out of the blue, their was a letter, addressed to Draco and in his father's handwriting.  
  
Something smelled funny.   
  
  
  
A/N2: Thanks so much for reading! Please, do review.;) 


	5. Sirius

A/N1: Ok, want to say sorry for this chapter being so long, you should have seen what I cut for the next chapter! Anyway, thank you all for taking the time to read, please enjoy! And don't forget to review!-but of course, I know you wouldn't forget that!;)  
  
  
  
Hopeful? What me?  
Chapter Five: Sirius  
  
  
  
  
  
Remus moved through the hallways on the way towards the room, which Dumbledore had given him while he was staying here. He still wasn't quite sure how Dumbledore had pulled it off, letting him stay here like this.   
  
Perhaps Fudge had come to some of his senses and decided Remus wouldn't do any harm providing he was safely kept under the influence of Snape's potion, which would keep him from turning into his caneid form.  
  
Or, perhaps, Dumbledore just hadn't informed Fudge of the school goings on.  
  
But what happened next surprised Lupin to no end. He had just passed by the Staff room when the door sprung open, and Snape stepped out, almost into Lupin. He looked in a terrible rage.  
  
"Severus, I am sorry, I didn't know you where there." Remus apologized, "What seems to be the matter?" He ventured, unsure as to whether or not it was the wisest thing to do. It didn't seem to be.  
  
"Oh! Nothing!" Snape spat, "I often find myself in fits, keeps me healthy." He spoke through gritted teeth and Lupin could hear Snape grinding his jaws together now.  
  
"Actually...I was just on my way to find you," This all seemed very difficult for Snape to say without screaming it, and even now their was a very clear amount of bitterness in his voice, "Headmaster Dumbledore wishes to speak with you, and you're in luck. He's in the staff room just now."  
  
As Lupin entered the staff room he heard Snape rush away, and judging by the loud stomps, he was continuing his rage all down the hall.  
  
The staff room was fairly small; a set of windows sat directly to your right as you entered and to your left sat large bureau dressers and potted plants. The rest of the room held chairs of green velvet and small foot stools, in the corner seemed to be a table that held plates and cups, and at the moment, the room also had Professor's Sprout, an exhausted looking McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore, who turned, standing quickly up to greet Remus as he entered.  
  
"Ahh! Remus, good, good, I had just sent Severus out to find you." Dumbeldore said, reaching his arms out to pat the younger man's thin shoulders.  
  
"Yes, I-he found me in the hall just outside. What can I do for you Professor?" Remus answered, his voice lowering slightly as if his words might suddenly become very secretive.  
  
Dumbledore guided him slowly away from the rest of those in the room and back again towards the door through which Remus had only just entered.  
  
"Not here, come with me to my office and we shall speak." Dumbledore's tone was not bad, it was low and serious, but nothing to be frightened of.   
  
Of course Remus had never had any cause to be frightened of Dumbledore-though in his younger years he sometimes found reason to be frightened of the detentions the old man dealt, but those were few and far between, and as Remus had discovered as he aged, he and his friends had very much deserved some of what they'd got-and he found himself quite curious as to what the Headmaster wished to speak with him about.  
  
And why...why could he not do it in front of the other Professors? Surely they, along with Remus, could be trusted?  
  
Curiosity sometimes got the best of Remus J. Lupin, but now was not one of those times. No matter how very much he might have wanted or felt the need to ask Dumbledore what this was all about, he held his breath along with his tongue until he recognized how close to Dumbledore's office they were growing.  
  
"Is anything wrong, Professor?"   
  
"Wrong? My good boy, no. You shall see. Though I should no longer call you boy, you are, and have been for quite a long while now I dare say, a man. I must get used to seeing my students as adults when they leave." Dumbledore said, his voice slowing as footsteps increased, he seemed lost, if only for a moment in memories of younger times, "They are and I'm afraid will always be children to me though. My students."  
  
Remus watched the old man's eyes change slightly, neither in colour nor in size, but as though in depth. He could see further just now if he looked into them, and it was a scene never before played out in front of him.  
  
"Ahh, here we are." Dumbledore's eyes sparkled again with a familiar gleam, "The password is 'Peppermint Cluster', go on in and I shall return in a while." He was hiding something. Remus could tell from the look he had on, the same look that James and Sirius always had before voicing some plan for a great adventure.  
  
"Professor, I had been meaning to ask you something," Remus ventured, now seeming as good a time as any.  
  
"Oh? Yes, go on?"   
  
"-About Sirius Black."  
  
"I shall answer all questions of him when I return. Wait in my office, and perhaps you will learn some yourself. Go on now, shoo." Dumbledore said with a slight wave of his hands. He turned to leave a bewildered, but obedient, Remus Lupin in his wake.  
  
Puzzlement filled his features as he stared after the retreating Headmaster, finally turning to face the gargoyle mounted on the wall before him.  
  
He cleared his throat. "Ehm, um, Peppermint Cluster"  
  
The huge gargoyle opened before him, sliding to the side, the sound of slow scraping stone against stone in his ears until finally it came to a stop and he was permitted entrance.  
  
There was a hallway before the actually office, very short, but there none the less; paintings hung on the stone walls, which were a lighter shade then most of the other's in the school. A detailed oriental carpet lined the few feet of floor just before a huge oaken door sat, the only thing left blocking the way to Dumbledore's office.  
  
Lupin pushed the door open, not pausing to knock for he knew that there would be no one in there now anyway-and oh, how wrong he was.  
  
  
His hair was still black, Remus realized as the man turned to face him. And his face, still too thin. Much thinner then he had remembered it.  
  
But he did look better then the last time Remus had seen him. He looked healthier, though worn still; he looked as though he had recently had a good meal and a bath and that both of these had done wonders for him mentally as well as physically.   
  
He looked neither happy nor upset-frankly, and in all honesty, he looked bored.  
  
"Sirius..." Remus' own voice spoke, as though it had a mind quite of it's own. He didn't remember forming the words, only the feel of them as they slid off his tongue.  
  
Sirius eyes grew wider, and he dropped the bauble he'd been toying with. He looked as though he had not been expecting to see his old friend standing in the doorway. And as though reading Remus' thoughts, finally Sirius spoke.  
  
"Remus? Remus! I was expecting Dumbledore!" Black leapt forward with all the speed of a rabbit and the grace of a dog. He tackled Remus, nearly knocking him to the ground.  
  
This was certainly more like the friend Remus had had all through his school years here.  
  
And Remus hugged Sirius back. Though not as strongly, not as bone crushingly. "I-You-...I didn't know you where here." Remus said quietly, awe evident in his voice as Sirius pulled slightly from the embrace of those who are too long separated.  
  
He could feel himself pale.  
  
"I didn't know YOU were here! They told me you might show up for this meeting today, but they didn't tell me you were already here!" Sirius scratched at the back of his head, a familiar lop-sided grin on his face, "Hey, Moony, I think they finally got back at us with a trick."  
  
Remus smiled, moving slowly to sit down by Dumbledore's desk, "Yes, well, we've always known that Albus had a prankster-ish streak in him. Just look who he's descended from."  
  
"Darn right!" Sirius agreed as he took his original seat again, following Remus' suit. He leaned forward looking at his friend, elbows on his knees; he tilted his head, a spark in his eyes as he studied his old comrade carefully.  
  
Remus could almost feel a blush rising in his cheeks under his friend's stubborn stare. "What are you looking at? You look as if I'm a centaur. Have I really changed so much?"  
  
Black remained silent for a while, but he continued to stare.   
  
He and Remus had been good friends. Sirius and James had always been the closest of the four, but as time went on and their years at Hogwarts grew fewer, James began spending more and more time with Lily, and Sirius and Remus seemed stuck to play pranks with-and on-each other only.  
  
Peter Pettigrew had never been wholeheartedly into the tricks they played. It was one of those things that seemed brilliant and perfectly normal for him to do at the time, and then, Remus always had the feeling that Peter would lie awake at night in his bed, wondering just what he'd done. Why? And who he was.  
  
If Peter could only have found that out in some other way then.... But it was the past. Peter had betrayed them, though, in Remus' mind, that was not his friend. It was not their Peter, it was a shell, created from too many interruptions of stories by more talkative people, too long sitting in the last seat of the table, and too long being the one to walk behind all the others.  
  
There were no excuses of course though, that Remus made for Peter. The plain truth, as Sirius would like you to believe it, was that Peter was always just a rat. Though Remus could tell, as he said this, from the look in his eyes, that even Sirius himself didn't quite believe it.   
  
Peter had been just as much his friend as any of theirs, and Remus felt that perhaps the true fact behind Sirius' anger, even beyond Peter's framing him, was guilt; that he had been too blind to see his friend grow away from him. Too blind or ignorant to ever stop to listen for more then a second.  
  
But, the point was that mid-way through their fifth year, Sirius and Remus began to play tricks on their own. And they grew to be closer friends through that time.  
  
To the point where they would visit each other on summers, even if the other two of the Four were un able to make it.  
  
And now, to see Sirius again, and looking so well after such a long and hard struggle, it made Remus' heart feel light, as it had not felt in years.  
  
"Do I look so different?" He asked again.  
  
"No...you look so the same." Sirius answered, and reached out his hand. "More lines though." He smiled, touching the wrinkles of stress on Remus' face, as if thinking the lines suited Remus quite nicely.  
  
"Oh, yes? Well I haven't been sleeping. And if you remember clearly, I didn't point out your oldness the last time I saw you." Remus said joking.  
  
Sirius dropped his hand, the noise it made a barely audible 'thwap' as it hit the loose fabric of his dark robe.  
  
"I didn't say you looked old.... You always did put words in my mouth, Moony. Daft git." Sirius said affectionately.  
  
"Must be spending too much time with you." Remus countered, and Sirius howled with laughter. They'd always shot insults back and forth to each other, but Remus' had never been much more then tiny words strung to hint at something not terribly nice. He'd never been good at insults.  
  
Except for taking them.  
  
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\  
Dumbledore made his way back to his office, taking his time in getting to it. He'd had no reason to leave Remus alone with Sirius except for the fact that he felt the two could use time to get to know each other once again, and though he did have business to discuss with both of them, the familiar sounds of their voices and laughter rising even through the now closed gargoyle, made Dumbledore rethink his moves.  
  
And it was with a smile that he left the two alone for a bit longer. They had nearly 15 years of catching up to do.  
  
'Perhaps,' Dumbledore mused contentedly, 'I shall go and see Poppy..'  
  
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\  
"You realize they're all idiots. Every one of them, they don't even know what magic IS until they get their letters," Pansy said a bit later that afternoon during a break, in the Slytherin's common room, "I mean, people expect us to just welcome them? Ha! That's absurd." She drawled the last word slowly, and Draco shuddered at just how much she could sound like him sometimes.  
  
He felt like telling her off, that she was just jealous of what Muggles had, though he didn't know what exactly there was that they had for her to be envious about, but it did seem that way.  
  
She'd been going on about them for almost an hour now and her little speech was just as boring now as it had been when she'd started.  
  
Occasionally she would slip into abusing Mudbloods, but inevitably she'd whined up back where she started. Again, and again.  
  
At first Draco had listened, even agreed with her on a few things, tried at the least to be polite, after all she was a fellow Slytherin, but as she continued to drag on things began to change in him, the act went something like this: Agree, agree again, after 15 minutes of it, begin making mental bets-a game-as to how much longer she could go on.   
  
He lost every one of those bets.   
  
And after 30 minutes, he'd decided to simply nod, or do nothing at all. But now, now he was at the stage where he did nothing-absolutely nothing. Just sat, slumped into his chair, and waited for the blessed relief of her shutting up. Maybe, he thought, maybe she'd get laryngitis.  
  
Draco's luck never *had* been very good.  
  
And once again it had been proved null when he'd received a letter from his father that morning at breakfast.   
  
He hadn't opened it yet, and that hung heavily in his heart.   
  
Another pound of weight to press down on his shoulders. There had been no good reason for him not to open it, and in fact it would most likely have been the smarter thing to read it right away. If his father had bothered to send a letter directly-and not through his mother or a servant-then it must have been important.  
  
Pansy Parkinson went on with her rant on Muggles, and Draco began to feel his will power cave in. He had to open the letter now, as much as half of him didn't want to know what his father had to say, the other half, the better trained half, would read it anyway.  
  
"-old them I wouldn't do it! Ick! Being that close to a Muggle town was just not something I was into doing, what if they gave me some sort of disease? Can you all imagine what my face would look lik-" Pansy's words were blissfully cut off in Draco's mind at least, as he picked up the envelope, held deep within his robe's pockets, he stared again at the tidy handwriting, and his own family seal on the back.  
  
It made a tiny cracking sound as he slid his thumb beneath it, to break the wax and open the letter.  
  
He unfolded the paper, which made crinkling sounds and he checked to make sure no one was watching him. No one important anyway.  
  
Draco could make himself very close to being invisible when he wanted; and now was one of those times. He was leaned so far back into his green, high backed chair, that he could hardly see Pansy's face anymore, even if he'd wanted to try and look.  
  
But his eyes were concentrated on the parchment, which he finished unfolding with trembling hands.  
  
Dear Draco,  
This is your father. Though I am sure you are already quite  
aware of that fact. I am coming to your school, today, the 1st of March. I will  
find you, there is no need for you to mention this to anyone. I have something important to  
discuss with you and it cannot be said over letter. I have...we have, a mission for you.  
Be free this afternoon.  
Lucius Malfoy  
  
Draco's heart had this horrible habit of stopping at the wrong moments. Such as this one.  
  
A mission? What sort of mission? And who exactly were 'we'? Draco really didn't need that question answered however, as he already was quite sure of whom the 'we' entailed.  
  
This afternoon? Draco nearly spat, his father had no right to commandeer an entire afternoon just so Draco could do yet another thing for him. It wasn't fair. And in the most childish way that Draco had acted since he was 6, he felt like throwing a tantrum.  
  
It just wasn't fair. And what...exactly, did this new mission of his, involve?  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Ooh, what DOES the mission involve? Why did Dumbledore go to see Poppy...? What's up with Remus and Sirius, and what the heck did Dumbledore want to see them about anyway? Stayed tuned, questions will be answered;)  
  
Thank you for reveiwing all and sorry this bit took me so long to post!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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